No kind of a man, as it turned out.
Cam stopped dead when he noticed a green tweed skirt flowing from beneath the camera's dark-cloth and a small, distinctly feminine hand adjusting the knob at the side of the lens.
Cameron smacked his palm down on the top of the big camera, startling the photographer out from under the cloth like a gopher from its burrow.
The photographer was a woman, all right—a small, sweetly rounded woman. The dark-cloth had mussed her hair so it straggled in corkscrews at her temples and cheeks. Though she was scowling, hers was the most arresting face Cameron had seen in months.
"Just what is it you're doing here?" he demanded.
"And who are you, sir—" she snapped back "—to be asking me?"
"I'm the man overseeing Joe Calvert's hanging, and I never gave permission for anyone to take photographs."
The woman straightened from her shoe soles. "I don't suppose I need permission, sir, since this is a public event."
Several miners turned to stare at them.
Cam couldn't say what was strictly legal; all he knew was he didn't want her here.
"What earthly purpose could you have for taking pictures of a hanging?"
There was neither apology nor compromise in her pale green eyes. "Selling photographs is my livelihood."
"And someone will pay you for a picture of this?" he asked, incredulous.
"Newspapers back east. Sensationalism sells papers."
Cameron glimpsed the hard practicality in her face. But then, her reasons for wanting the photograph didn't matter. Even someone who'd stabbed his partner in front of witnesses deserved to die with dignity.
"Well, I'm afraid you'll have to find something less sensational to sell them," he said and reached for her camera.
"Here, now!" She caught his arm. "What do you think you're doing?"
A few more men turned to stare at them.
Though she clung like a terrier, Gallimore managed to collapse the tripod. "I won't have you taking pictures of one of my hangings."
"Just how exactly is this your hanging?" she echoed, her voice rising. "Is it your neck they'll be stretching?"
Some of the miners around them snickered.
Cam shifted the weight of the camera against his shoulder and lifted the tripod off the ground. The contraption was heavier than it looked.
"I'm Judge Cameron Gallimore," he told her. "I presided over Mr. Calvert's trial, and I'm responsible for seeing his sentence carried out."
"Then go see to your job, Judge," she hissed. "Unhand my camera so I can do mine."
"Let her take her picture," one of the miners said. "What harm can it do?"
"Aw, don't t-t-t-take the ladies' c-c-c-camera," another pleaded.
There was a slurry of laughter.
Heat blossomed along Cam's jaw. He wasn't about to let a few drunken miners interfere with him doing his duty.
"All the little lady wants is a picture of Crazy Joe swinging," someone called out.
Images from the last four years washed over Cam—memories of stockinged feet dancing their final dance, of the crisp blue sky and the stench of death. They were visions that stalked him as he drifted to sleep, visions that lurked at the edge of his consciousness every time he sentenced a man to hang.
"I'm confiscating your camera, ma'am," he told her and stalked off toward the sheriff's office.
"You can't do that!" she protested.
"I can do anything I damn well please on the day of a hanging."
The miners hooted louder. Above their din, Cam heard her bustle up behind him.
"Wait," she gasped. "Wait!"
He deliberately lengthened his strides.
"Please let me have my camera back!"
"I'll see that the sheriff takes good care of it."
She caught up to him. "Please, I need to take that photograph!"
Cameron glanced down and recognized something dark and desperate in her face, but he refused to let that move him. He caught the woman's elbow with his free hand.
She cheeped in surprise. "What are you doing?"
"I'm taking you where you can keep your eye on the camera. You'll get it back when the hanging's over."
"But that will be too late!"
"Yes," he agreed and hurried her up the steps to the sheriff's office.
Painted by the Sun
The Women's West Series
Book Four
by
Elizabeth Grayson
~
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Painted by the Sun
from your favorite eBook Retailer,
visit Elizabeth Grayson's eBook Discovery Author Page
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Elizabeth Grayson has always loved stories of adventure and romance and began writing them in childhood. While she was teaching art at the St. Louis Art Museum, she published ten historical and two contemporary novels. Among them are books that have garnered awards from Waldenbooks and the RT Bookclub. Elizabeth's novels have also been finalists for the Willa Cather Literary Award and the Romance Writers of America's RITA. Elizabeth lives in the mid-west and is currently working on several new writing projects.
Contact her at: www.elizbethgrayson.com
Table of Contents
Cover
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
A Note from the Publisher
Excerpt from PAINTED BY THE SUN (The Women's West, Book 4)
Meet the Author
A Place Called Home Page 41